Casual the Continuing Story
by rmartin
Summary: Who said if Wilson and House got together, it had to be awkward? Rated T for some heady situations, but nothing too much. Story Complete now. Never fear, this pairing will be back. Perhaps with conflict next time! Thanks for sticking with me. Please R&R.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion, because I do not need to write more, but I think that if enough interest is there, I wold really enjoy trying to flesh this out._**

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One morning was just like another. One day passed just the same as the next. Day in, day out, nothing changed for the two men. They went to their jobs in their next-door offices; they spent their lunches quibbling over who had to pay this time. Not that it was ever an issue, the grumpy one never paid. The blue eyes and the brown eyes passed solemnly through the hospital halls until they managed to stumble out the doors toward the parking lot. More often than not, it was the middle of the night, but on those few occasions when it was evening, they always ended up in the same place together. A restaurant where the waitresses knew their names and they always joked about picking one up and taking her home; a bar that, aside from them, never saw a repeat customer. Sometimes they just went to Dr. House's place, Dr. Wilson never minded, as long as they were together.

Truth be told, both men greatly preferred the nights that ended in beer and B-movies, piled onto the worn out couch. They each knew the other so well that the little quirks they hid in public, even in the semi-private of their working lives, were intensely missed. It was only behind this closed door that they really unwound. For more than a decade, that was how it had been. Through Wilson's marriage, and divorce, and marriage and divorce more than once more than that; through House with Stacy and House without Stacy, then with her again. There was a cycle of destruction, self-destruction and that which came from other people, but always the safe place was on House's sofa.

"You know they think we're an item. Right?"


	2. It Begins

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion. I have gotten good reviews so far, but I am not too bent on it not to stop._**

Wilson's tie was undone, his shirt unbuttoned to match the undershirt and casual wrinkled essence of House's attire. It was still a stretch, Wilson almost never attained casual. "Who thinks we're an item?" House was the epitome of casual, the ultimate in cool; in his own mind anyway. "Everyone. Cuddy, your team, other doctors we work with. Hell I bet half the nursing staff goes home every night and sends e-mails to their girlfriends about the looks we give each other as we pass in the hall." An anxious bottle cap landed on the coffee table, bounced once, and landed for good. "Is it such a far cry from reality?" asked House, with an attempt to match his bottle cap with a casual toss.

"House, we're not an item. We're best friends, separate people." The movie was forgotten now, the debate had begun. This was one thing they did both in private and in public, but both men enjoyed the freedom of the private debates much more. House sat up from his slumped position and prepared to make his point. Wilson braced himself for the cold and always narcissistic logic that he knew would follow. "What is so different between us and an old married couple? Come on, list it, I can tell you what's different." He settled back to watch Wilson struggle. Wilson always struggled with making a point and House enjoyed it. He enjoyed the boyish fluster that the other doctor worked himself into. "It was... ok, it was cute." House figured if he were going to discuss this, that he might as well do it straight down to his thoughts.

Wilson gathered his list of points and was about to plunge on. "Take for instance, we don't live together." "Convenience." House retorted," Some relationships last longer and are healthier because the people do not entrench themselves in each other." "Well, we don't hold hands, kiss, cuddle, or... have sex." Wilson thought he had triumphed. His triumph lasted only briefly. "You think those 90 year old married couples have had sex in about the last 15 years? We don't hold hands or cuddle because you're a freak about being touched. Not that I could cuddle you anyway, I think bony and scrawny are such turn offs. We kissed once, and split the $50 we gathered from the bet. And hell, I've hugged you every single time another wife walked out. That's a lot of hugging for two men." House slammed the newly empty beer bottle he had been holding, down on the table next to its mates. He looked at Wilson and raised an eyebrow, shooting out "Well?" and waiting on the response.

"Well... we don't, we don't love each other. That's a pretty big one don't you think?" Wilson got up to go get two more beers from the kitchen. House waited until his back was facing him to say "Debatable."


	3. Phone Calls

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion. I had to make this just a touch less easy-going but don't worry, it won't get weird and awkward._**

It had been three days since the night of their debate. Wilson didn't let House know he'd heard his retort about the love comment. When he'd gotten back from getting new

beer, they'd picked up on something else. But House could tell Wilson had heard, he certainly was not acting as if he'd won the debate. There was none of the arrogant gloat that

would have lingered if he'd thought he'd won. In fact, nothing had changed. Nothing was even an iota different. "That's not true," thought House, as he waited on Cameron to bring

his coffee "James has been particularly attentive to everything I say lately." Cameron was in the other room, still waiting on the maker to finish, so House decided to call his friend

up, and see what the morning was bringing him.

In the next door office, Wilson was thinking that nothing had changed during those last three days since the "talk" at House's place. Nothing was even remotely out of place.

"That's not entirely true," he thought to himself as the phone on his desk began to ring "House has been marginally nicer to me since then. At least as "nicer" as he knows how to be."

The doctor walked over to his desk to pick up the receiver and before he could get the words "Dr. James Wilson" out of his mouth, a familiar voice on the other end said, "So does

your assertion that we don't love each other, mean you don't love me? Or was it that there could possibly be a one-sided love, just no mutual reciprocation?" Wilson took the phone

down from his ear, stared at it a second, and then spoke back into the mouthpiece. "Good morning House, I take it you mean from our conversation the other night?"

"No, I can read your mind Jimmy, now tell me." House was in his office peering anxiously into the conference room. Cameron still had her back to him, but there was no

guarantee how long that would last. "Do you, or do you not love me?" House was getting impatient with the other doctor, despite the fact that the phone conversation had not

stretched beyond a minute yet. "House, that is kind of an awkward question. You're my best friend, there's a kind of attachment and affection that forms in that bond. I think of you

as my annoying, older brother, there's got to be some love there. But if you mean romantic love, House, that's not a question you should be asking someone on the phone at work."

"But you're not denying it are you? Or ARE you? Well whatever. You are my bes- my only friend Wilson. And if nothing else, I love you like the little bundle of joy dropped off on

the doorstep when baby Greggy was 6 years old and took his mommy and daddy's love away from him. I want to kill you sometimes, but you're like blood." Wilson took the time

when House had to come up for air, to jump in.

"So what does this have to do with anything House? Are you just trying to make my morning exciting or something?" "No sir, I was just proving one final point. You love me, I

love you. We're now an item. It was your last qualification. Here comes Cameron, I have to go. Good bye... sweetie." House hung up the phone just before Cameron reached the

door. Wilson, on the other end, held the disconnected phone to his ear still, and said into the dial tone "Its not that simple. Is it?" He slammed the phone down, "Damn it House, you

had better not tell anyone about your little declaration before we have lunch. Damn it."


	4. Its Official

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion._**

At lunch that day the men sat on the other side of the partitioned wall from the largest part of the cafeteria. It was generally their custom to sit at a table, so that House could

get up and away at the first sign of Cuddy. Over here, where the booths were, she could easily pin him by sitting next to him and blocking his retreat. It was taking a chance, but it

would have to work. It was Wilson's idea; he obviously had something on his mind. House was just content to play along for a little while, as was his personal lunchtime custom,

since Wilson always paid.

"What the hell was that phone call about this morning? We're NOT a couple, House!" Wilson was busy watching House pick at his food, eating every imperfect french fry first.

"Ys, wr" said House, mouth full of food. He swallowed and continued. "We are, we love each other, we spend time together, we may at some point become romantically attracted

to each other. God knows we're not getting any younger, or any more desirable to anyone but each other." "I am not attracted to you!" Wilson was ramming his fork into his salad

with reckless abandon. A cherry tomato hopped out and landed on his tray. House was lightning quick to reach out with his fork and get the tomato into his mouth before Wilson

had a chance to catch it. "I'm not gay." Wilson almost sounded petulant, causing House to laugh a little before replying. "Nor am I, at this moment anyway. But I like to think one's

orientation is defined by the person one is romantically pursuing at the time. Right now though, we are definitely a couple. A homosexually-oriented, platonic, couple." The

hamburger on House's plate was receiving the "I'm finished, you must die" routine. This consisted of massacring the food beyond recognition with his knife, almost as if dissecting it

for medical school.

"Well, I am not calling you my boyfriend, this was your decision. Why can't we just be friends, House? Its worked before, for so long." Wilson still sounded like he was

pouting a little, so House pulled out his last stop. "Because if you call us a couple, I'll pick up the lunch tab once a week." Wilson stopped mid-fork to mouth, raised an eyebrow

and with a very calm and casual manner, as if he had been practicing it all morning, said "Ok, sweetheart."


	5. Its a Date

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion._**

"I like your tie." House picked up Wilson's tie from his shirt, handled it a moment with some contemplation, and dropped it back against the shirt again. "You like my tie? You never

wear ties." "That does not mean I can't like it. Just because I wouldn't wear it... that's stupid. You look nice today. Have a date tonight or something?" "No House, I do not. This is

just a bunch of my favourite stuff, and when it comes back from the cleaners, I tend to wear it all at once." The two men were standing in front of Wilson's office on a Thursday

morning. They moved inside the door and Wilson dropped his things on the desk to be carefully put away before his first patient of the day.

"No date, huh?" asked House as he dropped onto the sofa. "I didn't realise we were mutually exclusive. I just thought I was not dating anyone else because I couldn't get a date.

But if not, I mean that's fine, I am fine with not seeing other people." Wilson's exasperated sigh permeated the entire office before his words began. "Mutually exclusive? House, I

thought we were a 'homosexually-oriented, platonic couple'? Where am I supposed to get that non-platonic relationship I might possibly want sometime, you know,

heterosexually?" Wilson seated himself behind the desk and began shuffling papers, his passive aggressive signal for House to leave. It was not going to work.

"You know no relationship can ever stay platonic once it is defined. You always want to taste something once you have it in your hands, you always want more of it once you've

had a taste. Its just a matter of time Jimmy, we'll be marching in Pride Parades because we can't keep our hands off of each other." House was swinging his cane through his fingers

in intricate circles, his passive aggressive signal that he was not leaving until he deemed the conversation at an end. "House, not all homosexual people are sex-mad, cross-dressing,

fairy-loving queens. I am sure there are plenty of gay people just like us." "You did mean to say '... if we were gay.' right? Or have you already embraced your new life-definition?

That's very quick for you sweetie, you used to take three weeks to get used to a new haircut."

"Damn it House, how far is this going to go? At what point am I going to find out that you've been harboring romantic feelings for me all this time, and I was just too blind to see

them? That is where this whole 'relationship' thing seems to be going." "Oooh, right about the same time I find out it was true for you as well." House began the process of getting his

cane back in order to get off the couch. "House, are you really telling me you have feelings for me? More than this brotherly, best friend, love?" "My place or yours tonight?" House

walked toward the door. "Yours, you know the hotel does not have a DVD player." "Alright, its a date. You really do look nice today." House closed the door.


	6. Its Now?

**Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. I update as often as I can but since this pairing is foreign to me, it takes me a while to work it out. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion._**

"Beer, check. Pizza, check. Candles, ha, just for effect." House limped around his couch and lit one of the candles, and left the other with the torch nearby.

"I don't need to look like I did BOTH just when he walked in the door, planning, idiot. I never remember making this much fuss about a woman, strange. I always let them fuss over me." House stopped for a moment, considered this, and dismissed it by saying, "This is a game, those weren't games. Those did not involve talking to myself either." He flopped on the couch and waited to hear Wilson's knock on the door. A few minutes later, the sound was heard.

"Come in, darling." House always left the door open for Wilson if they did not show up together. Generally not out of courteousness, mostly out of laziness.

Wilson came in with his jacket over his arm and loudly announced, with not an undetectable amount of sarcasm, "Honey, I'm home!!!" He threw his jacket on a nearby chair and walked to the couch.

House stood up, proffered his cheek, and tapped it with an index finger. Wilson looked at the 5 o'clock shadow, winced and said "House, that's not platonic." House made an exaggerated face of disappointment and said "I was just offering you a taste." as he sat back on the couch.

"I thought you said you had to hold something in your hands before you wanted to taste it? I think I am still kicking you with one toe on the ground to even figure out if my mom wouldn't beat me for picking something like you up."

Wilson went to his usual jobs of getting the beer and rifling through the DVDs. "This one?" he asked, and pulled out a sci-fi flick they usually enjoyed.

"I was thinking something a little more romantic, dear." House was opening the pizza box and ripping paper towels off the roll. "How about just something more boring then?" he asked when Wilson did not respond.

"Ok, this one?" Wilson pointed to another box on the shelf.

"Perfect, we'll be asleep in each others' arms in no time."

"Will we, House?" Wilson opened the DVD player and started arranging the disc on the tray.

"Where exactly are you going with this? I mean, how do you want this to turn out? You obviously aren't doing it for the collective "everyone" that you first brought up about this... it is something else. So tell me."

The younger man was popping the caps off of two bottles, but staring into the older eyes with apparent demand. House stood up again, which was no easy task, and turned around to sit on the coffee table, so he could see Wilson, without having to strain.

"Do you want me to be honest? Cause you know I love to be round about and vague as much as the next person." Wilson made a noise of disbelief and House moved on.

"We're lonely, and don't deny it. We're both lonely, and miserable, and no one really wants us. I mean sure you can get laid any time you want to, but no one wants to keep you. And nobody sure as hell wants to sleep with me. But that's not much of the point. I didn't think this up cause I am horny. I thought this up cause I wondered who would be there for me in the middle of the night when I can't sleep, or who would go to the beach with me, if I ever decided I wanted to go. You were the only one I could come up with. And now you be honest with me, is there anyone out there who wants you?"

Wilson sat there, on the couch, beer in hand, for several minutes before he cleared his throat to speak. "No, I can't House. I can't think of another person who wants me. Thanks for bringing it up." He turned his bottle up to his mouth and took a long pull.

"That's the point Wilson. That's the point. I want you... I mean not in that pathetic 'I want you sooo bad' teenage girl kind of way, but I like having you around. I almost love having you around. I do want to take you to the beach, hypothetically cause I hate the beach. It sounds cheesy, it sounds, well it sounds gay, but it pretty much is, and its pretty much the way it is."

"I'm not sleeping with you."

"I'm not asking you to, I don't want you to right now. I want you to get me a slice of pizza. We'll go from there."

Wilson looked a little stunned. He wondered why he never seemed to agree with anything, never let the words of affirmation cross his lips but always seemed to end up playing along. He brought back the pizza, and handed House a paper towel and a slice, and asked the question. "What makes you think I am agreeing to this?"

House bit the pizza, held it in one hand and put his arm up on the couch. "Because despite what you say, even I know you like a good snuggle every once in a while."

Wilson sat down on the couch, near but not too near House, and put his head back on House's arm.

The DVD started up, the pizza and beer supply dwindled, and just as House predicted, before the movie was over, both men were asleep.

Wilson's head was rested on House's elbow, on the back of the couch. House had his head leaned all the way back, his mouth had fallen open, he was snoring slightly.

Neither man was worried about how this might change things in the morning, though when it came they would definitely have to confront it. Right now, there was nothing to worry about. They'd found someone, each other.


	7. Its Warm

D**isclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story. No one. Just the idea is mine.**

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. I update as often as I can but since this pairing is foreign to me, it takes me a while to work it out. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion.  
I made this extra long because I am not entirely sure where I want to take the next chapter. I think I am open to suggestions, if anyone would like to make a request for something they would like to see. I can't guarantee I will directly use any of them, but perhaps something will inspire me._**

At 5 a.m. the pain in House's leg woke him up. It was an abrupt, and unwanted return to reality. There was another feeling as well, equally unexpected but when he discovered the source, not entirely unwanted.

His arm was numb, from the elbow down. He couldn't move it at all. He tried to focus his eyes in the dark on the weight pressing his arm into the upholstery and when his mind cleared before his eyes did, he realised it was Wilson's head, rested on his arm, where they'd fallen asleep just the way House had predicted.

He couldn't figure out a less than abrupt way of getting out of his predicament than the first one that came to mind, so he acted on impulse and simply reached with his other hand, grabbed the back of Wilson's head, mostly gently, and lifted it off of his arm. After extracting his limb, he put his friend's head back on the couch and limped off to find a pill bottle with some available Vicodin.

From a deep sleep, Wilson could hear noises coming from far off to one side of the room. He couldn't place them at first, he figured someone was outside of his hotel room in the hall, the maid service started early. Then he realised he was sitting up, still in his clothes, and definitely on a couch.

He was jerked awake from his sleep and saw three things that immediately let him know what happened. he saw the dark screen saver to a DVD player on a TV across the room, he saw an empty pizza box with beer bottles stacked inside, and he saw House,

limping out of the kitchen with his hand to his mouth, usual pill-popping style.

"Oh, we fell asleep. Its... early. Really, really early. Do you really wake up this early?" Wilson was rubbing his head, it was warmer than the rest of his body and he couldn't remember why. His sleep had been so deep. "No I do not wake up this early, but I am usually not asleep on my couch for five hours, sitting up with someone's head on my arm.

Usually I just roll over when the leg pain starts and the bottle is already there. I had to go find one this time." Wilson figured out why his head was so warm, and immediately got an apologetic look on his face. "I am sorry about your arm, the movie was just so boring."

"As it is every time, and as I told you it would be this time. So we didn't end up making out, but we handled it like any other long-term couple would... we fell asleep together. Its reasonable, and I love you more for it."

"House, " Wilson was now trying to get his still sleep-drugged body up from the sofa to get his things and go get an hour or two sleep in his own "room" at the hotel. "No, stop. I am sorry, I will stop being so damn jolly in the morning. You can stay here. I swear I will not molest you in your sleep. Tuesday's not my day for that anyway." House walked the rest of the way over to the couch and looked at his friend from above. "Bed with me? Or couch? You can sacrifice all you want but this is my place, and I will go where I am most comfy. But don't say I didn't extend the invite if you decline."

"No House, I think for now I will stay over here on the couch. Thank you though, and I will remember you asked." Wilson was looking for the blanket House usually kept folded at one end or the other of the sofa on the floor. He found it, took off his belt and covered himself up.

House reached down with one hand, put it on Wilson's shoulder and said to him "Good night. If you get up before me, please wake me up. I can only get away with so many things before Cuddy tries to pile the hours on. Oh," he added, as he started to move away,

"I am glad you were here when I woke up." Wilson looked backwards over the arm of the couch at House's retreating form. "Thank you House, I will be sure to. I am glad I stayed here too." The door to the bedroom closed slowly, Wilson knew he had been heard.

He lay there for a few minutes and tried to figure out what the feelings, besides the nagging urge to return to dream, were that swirled in his head. Sleep, dream, satisfaction and one more... obviously the usual frustration that came from House. But something added now. As he drifted off to sleep, Wilson realised what it was, "I've agreed to it. Really agreed now. I like it."

A few hours later, the sunlight streaming through House's living room windows was just too much for Wilson. He rolled off the couch, took the blanket, and wandered down the hall. When he got to House's bedroom door he considered knocking, but instead opened the door just a tiny bit, and peeked inside. What he saw was reassuring, and confirmed what he wanted to know. House was not lying when he extended the offer to share his bed. House also must have known that the sun would wake him up out there, and that Wilson was still serious when he said "platonic".

The reason Wilson was so sure of all these things was because House was lying far to one side of his bed, with a line of pillows down the middle, and the half closest to the door empty and waiting. He was breathing heavily and steadily and Wilson had to remember how to get into a bed without disturbing the other occupant. He was almost settled, but then House rolled over and looked at him with one half-opened eye.

"Hey there, get comfortable." House rolled onto his stomach and pressed the side of his face into the pillow. Wilson had seen him sleep like that before, but had never paid much attention. This time he looked, and wondered how anyone could sleep with their lungs that squished, or their face that close to being smothered.

Wilson propped his hads behind his head, laying on his back like he always did. A second later, House snaked a hand over the top of the barrier in the middle. "You don't mind do you?" he asked with his voice half muffled from his pillow. He rested his hand lightly on Wilson's elbow. "No, I don't guess I do. Go back to sleep House. I'll tell you about it  
tonight." Wilson shut his eyes, concentrating on the warm hand on his arm and wondered what would transpire throughout the day.

"You'll be right here again tonight right?" asked House, this time further into sleep. Wilson was not sure if he was lucid or not, but he replied anyway. "Yes, I guess I will." "Good, then I'll listen to it then."


	8. Its Breathless

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. I am sorry about the long wait, I just had some writer's block and some personal busy time that I had to get through. I update as often as I can but since this pairing is foreign to me, it takes me a while to work it out. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion.  
_**

House was asleep in his chair at work. His feet were propped up on the desk and he was in the middle of a dream he couldn't quite place. Wilson was there, and- all of a sudden House felt a soft, very real hand on his forehead, and felt the rising heat of arousal as he dragged himself from sleep.

"Wilson?!" he asked, trying to get his eyes opened. He was met with a voice he did not expect to hear. Cameron's. "No, Cameron. You were sweating, and your pager is going off. I thought you might be ill. I was checking your temp." House became quickly aware of his sweaty forehead and the heat in the lap of his jeans, and quickly confused as to where it came from.

Was it because Cameron had touched him so softly? She was hot, and he was biologically male, it only made sense. But Wilson had been in his dream, if only he could remember what the dream was about. Was it because of Wilson?

"No, not ill, but you're going to need a doctor if you don't back up a little. Can't a man have his space? I was having a nightmare," he continued, slipping into a lie the way most people slip into socks. "Cuddy was chasing me and one of her breasts kept getting bigger and bigger and growing a hand to reach out and drag me to the clinic."

"Then why did you ask for Wilson when I woke you up?" "Well because I thought I was at home. Wilson was there this morning, he crashed on my couch. It is still too early in the day to remember coming to work. I thought the house was on fire or something."

"Oh, that's all?" Cameron asked as she put House's coffee cup down on the desk and looked at his pager for him. "Yes, that's all" House replied, in his best teenage inquest-victim voice.

Cameron had the tiniest bit of her most self-satisfied smile on her face, and just stood there, silently staring at House until he snapped "What? What?!" and snatched his cup up to his lips. "Nothing, I just thought it might be something else. I saw you two in the hall this morning."

"What does that mean?" asked House, and took another sip of the perfect coffee. He wondered if Wilson made coffee as good as Cameron's, and if he didn't, was House making a big mistake trading the two off for good.

"When Wilson stopped at his office door this morning, you gave him a pat on the arm. I've never seen you touch him, except when you go after him like you'll turn him upside down to shake money out of him. Is something wrong?"

"I'll tell you about it later, nothing is wrong. You're just nosy and over-observant and suspicious. I am busy now, get away from me." House spun his chair around so his back was to the other Doctor, waited until her breathing slowed from a frustrated sigh, and he heard her footsteps retreating from the room.

He wondered if she'd noticed his very obvious arousal. Probably she had. She was probably flattering herself that it was about her. Hell, it might be about her. House didn't know. He did know one way to find out though.

* * *

"What do you want?" Wilson started to get up from his desk when House burst into the office. "Sit down, I don't need a consult or anything. I just need to check something." He walked over to all of Wilson's windows, after closing the door soundly, and pulled all the shades closed. Then he went right over to Wilson's desk.

"What do you want?" Wilson asked again, and House just looked at him. Both of House's hands were suddenly on either side of Wilson's face, and before the words could escape his mouth again, Wilson felt House's lips pressed against his.

The kiss lingered more than a split second, both men had more than enough time to think over the situation. In fact, Wilson had enough time to reach up a hand to House's elbow, and grab it firmly, pulling the other man away from him.

"What the hell do you think you are doing House?!" he yelled as he watched House back away from the desk to the couch across the room. His breath was coming hard and fast and he had broken a sweat on his forehead. He was looking at House, trying to figure out what had just happened, wanting him to say something, say anything.

Wilson was not sure if he was experiencing shock, or anger, or fear, or what. "Tell me what that was, now." House had settled back on the couch and was trying to control his own breathing. "What was that? It seems,"

House scraped his hand across the crotch of his jeans and down the left leg, he looked at Wilson, "It seems that you are not the only one who has something to tell tonight." He stood up and headed as quickly as he was able, toward the door. "I will see you at the house, have a good day."


	9. Begin Again

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. I am sorry about the long wait, I just had some writer's block and some personal busy time that I had to get through. I update as often as I can but since this pairing is foreign to me, it takes me a while to work it out. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion._**

They were sitting at the table, something they never did when they just hung out. Empty takeout cartons were around them, but they had used plates. Each man seemed to be on his best behavior, wary of the other without being uncomfortable. Wilson was the first one to speak.

"I liked it, this morning, your hand on my elbow. It was... comfortable. I could have stayed that way all night. I'm embarrassed to say so though, not because its anything awkward, we share everything. Unfortunately. But just because it is such a big change. But there, I've said it."

"Wow, we are on totally different planes man. I don't mean that to sound quite as stoner as it came out though. But its about the only description. I mean here you are, telling me you are finally comfortable with the idea of touching me, or me touching you. And I am about to have to say this. Fantastic, I feel like a girl with a crush."

House shifted the last noodle on his plate with his fork, and twirled it into a little ball. "What do you have to say House?" Wilson grabbed the plates and took them to the sink. It was his polite and not quite so obvious way of giving House a moment to compose himself. He rinsed them off, dropped them into the washer, and came back to the table.

"Well, for starters, move in here. We're a couple now, self-declared and covert right now albeit, but we're part of each other in some weird way. You can't stay at a hotel, no matter how nice, no matter how good a deal you get for residence living."

"Ok, I can handle that. I'll get my stuff tomorrow. Don't worry, its just clothes, she took all the rest." Wilson was being kind to his ex-wife, he usually added "that bitch" but didn't really feel like disparaging her right now. There were more important things.

"But now, House, I've told you my issue, as dumb as it might have turned out to be. Tell me why in the world you kissed me today. Don't think I didn't notice you kissed me. It was very obvious."

This time it was House's moment to stall. "It didn't suck though did it? I've worked very hard on that." "I wasn't really paying attention House, I more than a tiny bit shocked."

House limped the empty containers over to the trash can, then sat back down. "I was napping in my office today, and Cameron came in. She woke me up and I was, um- well more than aroused when I came to." Wilson was silent for a moment, waiting on whatever House might finish with.

When nothing came quickly, he raised his eyebrows and asked "Am I supposed to guess something from this? You've carried a torch for her since you laid eyes on her." "Its not that... it wasn't her. When she woke me up, I asked for you. YOU were in my dream. It was you I um... That was why I came in there and kissed you. I wanted to make sure." House had his face in both of his hands, resting his elbows on the table.

"Just tell me, I mean for Christ's sake, what could it possibly be?" Wilson was watching him closely. "We said it wouldn't be awkward. We said we could take it slow. So tell me, and if it has to wait, it has to wait. Tell me, Greg."

There was surprisingly no note of exasperation in Wilson's voice, he'd learned to deal with all of House's quirks. But something about him using House's first name, they so rarely did that, was just intimately reassuring enough for House to go on. "Well, and don't expect me to make this romantic or anything but-"

Wilson's pager began to beep right at that moment. He heaved an exasperated sigh that just covered the sound of House's relieved one. He checked his pager and as his eyes widened with dread he said "Shit. I have to make a call." He grabbed the phone from its cradle on the counter and went around the corner to the hall. House could hear him saying things into the phone, and then hanging up.

Then he heard an unfamilar sound. A scraping he did not recognise. He went to see what was the matter and found that Wilson had slid down the wall onto the floor. He looked distracted, and defeated. House was about to question him when Wilson looked up. His eyes were hollow.

"My patient died. The one who was doing so well on the drug therapy. She just... died. They said her heart just stopped. I, she was happy yesterday. Optimistic. I don't- it is so... unexpected." His voice broke on the last words, and he choked down a groan. House stood over him and looked down with confusion at his best friend.

"I've never been here for this part James." he said, returning the intimate favour of the first name. "I don't know what to do here. Any other time, but this one is new. What did um-... your wives do?" Wilson sighed. "Some did nothing, the rest offered me life-affirming, reassuring sex. It was supposed to make me feel that life goes on."

"Did it work?" asked House and offered Wilson his hand to stand up. "It was too much, always hollow, never meaningful." "Is there something in between? I, want- I want to help." The two men stood in the hall staring at each other.

"You could... well, this is stupid." "No, its not. Its new for me, yeah, but not stupid. I do want to help." "Could you just go lay down with me, maybe put your hand on my elbow again? Just while I try to sleep of the shock?"

Wilson started to walk toward the bedroom. "How about we take down the pillows, and I give you an entire arm? You look like you could use it." "I'd like that, thanks." The newly confirmed couple went into the bedroom, the door closed behind them.


	10. Together for Good?

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. I am sorry about the long wait, I have been SOOOOO busy lately. I will have a little time coming up so expect an 11th chapter not too far behind. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion._**

A few weeks passed of the same routine, more like a comfortable mixture of friends and siblings than a couple. Everyone heard about Wilson moving in at House's. Most people liked Dr. Wilson, there were glad he did not have to live in a hotel anymore.

Even if it meant moving in with Dr. House permanently. People had it on good authority that the move was permanent; Dr. Chase and Dr. Foreman had been summoned to move in the new sleeper sofa and wardrobe. Sofa in the living room, wardrobe in the bedroom... where there was more space. Of course.

What no one knew was that the wardrobe was in the bedroom because Wilson was in the bedroom, nine nights out of ten anyway. The new sofa was just for nights when they, when House, wanted to space.

Wilson assumed House spent these nights with a Penthouse or something dirtier, handling his sexual frustration alone. Some of those nights he would be right. But most of the time House said he needed a night alone it was so he could sort out his slowly building sexual feelings for Wilson.

He hadn't talked about the feelings since the night with the pager. He figured the opportune interruption was a sign that the time was not right. But that night, and almost every night for a month since, they would go to bed, House would lay on his stomach and throw an arm across Wilson's chest.

Wilson would usually hold onto House's arm until sleep slackened his grip and then House would turn his back to the other man, his erection only subsiding as the pressure of Wilson's touch faded away.

Things were still as casual as ever; House hid his feelings like a pro. So did Wilson, because if House had ever asked he would have discovered that every morning before he was awake, Wilson lay there watching his back, his shoulder move and trying not to touch himself, and the arousal he'd discovered just a week or two before.


	11. Can't Wait Much Longer

**_A/N: I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson I read all the time. I just decided that there had to be another way to do that. Thank you all for the positive response so far. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE OF THIS STORY: review this portion. _**

One day, in House's office (whenever he paid for lunch they ate in his office), he asked Wilson, "what type of swimsuit do you think Cameron wears?" Wilson stabbed at his salad and asked through a full mouth "why does it matter?" "Well it doesn't REALLY matter but I had this dream with her in it last night and she was wearing this HOT string bikini. I kept trying to ask her to turn around but she was resisting, I think it might have been a thong."

"Jesus House, I thought you weren't attracted to her?" Wilson was stabbing harder at the salad now, but House had not noticed. "Well I'm not REALLY, but she has one hell of a body. Its hard to forget in a long, lonesome night."

"Gee, lonesome, thanks, glad I am so much company. Besides, what happened to me making you hard?" Wilson hadn't really meant to say it, but the words just tumbled out. They both froze, silent.

"What do you mean?" the fact that this had not been brought up for a month or more, was even more unsettling to House than the actual idea. He liked to think that if a subject was dropped, it was forgotten. Out of mind, out of mind.

"You can't really being going back a month to find a barbing reply, can you?" "Well I have been thinking about that conversation for a whole month, after I recovered from the shock of that night and my patient, and I realised what it was you never finished saying. What you never said was 'James, you turned me on.' and frankly, I deserve to know the truth."

"This isn't exactly a conversation for the office." "Well then we'll finish it at home, and we WILL finish it, do you hear me House?"

House nodded his head in a non-committal fashion and went back to his sandwich. Wilson was sulking a little and was confused when House got up and called Dr Cameron into the room.

"So, Miss June, Dr Cameron, whatever your REAL name is, what sort of swimsuit do you wear?" Cameron rolled her eyes and expressed a giant sigh of sarcastic frustration.

"How important is the truth in this matter, House?" she asked him, knowing it was easier to tell him what he wanted to hear, than whatever her answer might be. "It is crucial, we need to know to settle a desperate, and global debate, only the truth can free us."

"This is pathetic, I expected more from you Dr. Wilson, why do you let him do this?" a still sulking Wilson just sort of shrugged helplessly. "I wear a one piece, strapless, black bathingsuit, like a pin-up girl House. Vargas all the way, but I do NOT wear it with high heels or stockings and garters, I wear it with flip-flops and a black sarong. Happy now?"

"Only if you show up tomorrow wearing it, Doctor. Go back to work." She rolled her eyes yet again and went back to the conference room and her files. "That's no good, she covers up... what are you staring at?"

Wilson was following Dr Cameron with his eyes and looked up when House addressed him. "I don't know, I thought what she said was pretty hot. I can picture her in it."

"Well damn, five minutes ago I was getting the coal-rake for talking about her, but YOU can do it?"

"I never said you turned me on, you said I did. Therefore its betraying me to think she's hot, but I am not betraying anyone if I say she is. I haven't told you that you turn me on yet."

"What does that mean? Yet? Are you starting to get little tinglies in your naughty bits when you think of me, and you just haven't said yet? Or am I still so repulsive you can't even bring yourself to think about me without my clothes on?"

"You know," said Wilson, deftly avoiding the conversation for the moment, "I think this is better for home, we should wait until then." He began packing up his trash and gathering House's as well. Then he sat back down for a moment.

They both waited, in perfect silence until House characteristically had to break the flow. "Am I making you horny now?" He raised an eyebrow and licked his lips.

"Damn it House! Shut up. I will see you at home."


	12. Smoldering

**A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to get back to. I had to help move some family mostly across the world, I had some work issues to attend to, LIFE got severely in the way of free time. (_DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, just the idea_.) I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson stories. I just wanted to make something casual and progressive, that didn't have the weird hangups of other slash. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE, review what is already here. Hopefully nothing else will get in the way of progressing from here out.**

Back at home, Wilson even thought of it as "home" now, he was in the bathroom showering off his day. He could hear House in the rest of the rooms, playing his electric guitar, the piano, a CD; none of them for more than a minute though, all of it nervous release. Wilson told him that he needed to shower because a child patient with leukemia had thrown up on his shirt that morning, but really Wilson only wanted to shower because when he arrived home House's hair was wet, and he sensed something different in the air. He even shaved while he was in there. He hoped House wouldn't notice that he had gone out of his way. But a part of him hoped that the extra effort would pay off later. How exactly, he wasn't sure.

House looked up to see Wilson coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel from the waist down. He disappeared into the bedroom and House slammed a finger down on a piano key. He paced a little more and hitched his "indoor jeans" up a little higher. They were comfortable, casual, and a little too big in the waist. His fat pants, but House thought they were stylish any time he was not walking out the door. He'd thrown on a grey fluffy-something sweater of Wilson's, too. It was cashmere, or angora, or something he was fairly certain cost way too much for a man to buy, but Wilson had stuffed it in the "things my ex-wives bought me so you (House) can wear them" drawer, so House was wearing them. He growled a little, wondering what was taking Wilson so long to re-emerge.

Just as he was thinking up something appropriately disgruntled to yell at the closed door, there was Wilson. Dressed in his gym sweat pants and a green soft t-shirt that House had tried on once to confirm green was not his best color. He knew what that t-shirt felt like and wanted to reach out and touch it as Wilson walked closer.

"Oh god," Wilson thought as he approached his housemate, friend... his "House mate" as he'd mentally coined the term before, "he's wearing that sweater from Number 1. She couldn't get enough of that sweater, it always reminds me of sex. Damn it." Aloud all of this musing turned to, "Couldn't decide how to amuse yourself? I heard you banging around out here while I was showering." "Its called 'improvisational jazz' stupid, ever heard of it?" "Yeah, stupid, but its not usually carried out mixed media." "I'm an innovator in every field, what can I say?" House flopped as best he could onto the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table. "So, darling Jimmy, how was your day? I am sorry I don't have dinner on the table but the housekeeper's day off is today and I jus-"

"Stop stalling House. We're here to finish a conversation and I am not sure how it should go. But you're the one being so cool here. So you start. I'll give you a topic and you run with it. 'James Wilson makes me horny, we share a bed and I have failed to bring this up for over a month.' Now, begin." House really couldn't believe that Wilson had just outright said it like that. He really didn't know where to begin. But he decided to try.

"Yes, we HAVE been sharing a bed, for quite a while now, and we've been lightly, and platonically touching each other, all night, for nearly all of those nights. At least I think we each thought the other thought it was platonic, but hell, here we are trying to have a civil conversation about how we're both hard in bed together. Apparently one of us was lying, both of us were lying. I think what I am trying to say is that I am not attracted to MEN, but I am attracted to you. I don't know how far it goes. I don't know where I want it to go, where I want it to stop. I don't want to fuck you-"

"Gee, thanks for sugar coating the words there, House, come on." "Fine, its not explicitly sexual right now. I get turned on when you touch me, when I think about you touching me... I've even considered kissing you again. I think, I think I... have a crush on you, and I get to act out little pieces of it every day, and now we're together all the time, and its confusing me. I've said it. There. Your turn."

Wilson had been standing, looking down at House this whole time. He took a deep breath and sat down on the coffee table facing his partner, yes, partner. He looked into his eyes and started just talking, from somewhere in the middle of the story it seemed. "I hate when you tell me to sleep on the couch. I am afraid I have done something wrong, touched too much, not enough, something. I hate that I wake up in the morning and see you sleeping there and it's the only time I ever see you happy. Unconscious but happy. I hate that I am so comfortable with you that I don't notice you waking up to pop another pill in the middle of the night but that I am not comfortable enough to tell you I LIKED your kiss, and wished it would happen again. I want you to tell me to stay in the room for whatever you have to work through, I want you to tell me that you dream of me when you look so happy and I want you to just have known I liked the kiss, because of how comfortable I could be about it. No, I don't guess I want to 'fuck you' either, geez, that just sounds... never mind. We have to do something about this. We have to..." He didn't finish the sentence because House was just looking at him, with that indiscernible front he liked to put up. Wilson thought about it for just a second or two and decided he couldn't take it any more. That he wouldn't take it any more.

"We have to do THIS." He moved over to the couch beside House but still facing him. He moved quickly but not forcefully, too fast to protest but not harsh enough to be threatening. He looked for any sign of resistance but House was just looking at him. Wilson put one hand on each of House's shoulders and pushed them back into the couch. He looked him in the eye and said "Stop me if you have to" and plunged ahead into the kiss he'd planned, though not rehearsed in his head.

The kiss went from surprising to deepening surprisingly quickly. Both men had been wondering for more than a few days what another kiss would bring and were equally anxious not to miss out on the event now that it was happening. Passionate lips pressed tightly together quickly turned to softened lips moving against each other, from there to open lips trying to explore new territory with eager but tentative tongues.

This went on for longer than either man could readily tell, the only change in the situation being the heady pursuit of one for the other, and the fact that House has loosened Wilson's grip on his shoulders in order to wrap an arm around his waist. House deftly moved himself into the corner of the couch, back against the armrest and with one swift movement that suggested he had performed this very move countless times, broke the kiss for less than a nanosecond to forcefully reposition Wilson with his chest against House's.

Their actions were even more intimate now as Wilson was stretched so that House had to support him to continue their embrace. One hand under his elbow, the other around his waist, Wilson briefly wondered as he contemplated opening his eyes, what House was thinking. He removed his hand from the armrest and moved it to House's good leg, on his thigh, without thinking.

House quickly removed his mouth from Wilson's and breathed into his cheek "are we making out now? If this keeps up much longer my leg is not going to take it." Wilson decided to shift away definitely, and then reply. "I was trying to lay off it, but I know its still hard but... yes? I think we were making out. Why does everything in a relationship sound like its being talked about by a fifteen-year-old girl? We're grown... MEN for Christ's sake."

House stopped him by slapping a hand on his shoulder and pulling himself off the couch. Wilson flinched for a moment, thinking he had ruined everything and started to say as much. House stopped him before the words came and said "Come on, we'll go to bed. I still can't say I want to f- never mind. We'll fall asleep better if we don't have all that awkward "deciding to go to bed shit" to do when we're, um, through with this. It'll be a hell of a lot easier on my leg too. Come on."

House walked to the bedroom. Wilson followed, "what else could I do?" he thought to himself. "He is waiting on me, actually waiting on me. Just like he was waiting on me to pay for his lunch. How does he stay so damn casual?" and followed House before a comment of any kind could come.


	13. Saturday

**A/N: These characters aren't mine; I just put them in some situations I imagined. I wrote this in response to all of the awkward House/Wilson out there. It's going well, I am starting to appreciate to more, but I am still not sure how to carry it all out. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE: review this portion. I need feedback to know where to go.**

"Mm, no, not like- Mmmm" House took his lips away from Wilson's long enough to look around him. His back was against the headboard with his legs straight out in front of him, Wilson was kneeling and facing him with a hand on either side of House's waist. "I want... damn it, touch me." "Where? How? I'm not exactly an expert on this." Wilson leaned back and ran a hand through his hair, his frustration and excitement both blatantly apparent. "I wondered why your wives left you, I had no idea..." "Oh cause this is really the time to make THAT joke, House. I don't mean I don't know what to do about sex, I don't know what to do about you. You've never had that conversation with me. I mean God knows I have told you every single thing a wife did to me that made me touchy, angry, horny, cum unexpectedly and far too soon-" "Yeah that one was great, I STILL tell that story to the ducklings, um, hypothetically of course." House shifted and took his sweater off. Wilson sighed.

"So have we hit a brick wall for the night, Greg? I don't know enough about you to keep it up right now. So unless you're going to tell me what to do, I need some sleep." Wilson took his t-shirt off and waited for a reply. "I'm not answering the CosmoQuiz right now, so let's just go to sleep. I'm sorry, I'm more than a little frustrated and... Forget it." He slid down into bed and in one swift, practiced motion pulled his jeans off and the sheets up. Wilson caught a glimpse of gray boxers and pushed thoughts he wasn't ready for out of his mind. He situated himself in bed next to House and started his shifting ritual of getting comfortable in bed.

"James?" "Hm?" he stopped shifting and rolled over on his side to look at House. "Come here." Wilson slid over to House's side of the bed, pressed up against his right side and put his bare arm across House's bare chest before asking again, "What?" House wrapped one arm around Wilson's back and used the other to tilt Wilson's mouth to his.

The kiss was soft, better practiced after the passionate and fevered attempts before. Wilson broke off and rested his head on House's chest. He breathed deeply, relaxing into the warmth of the embrace and the comfort he felt there. The last thing he heard as he reached the point of no return on sleep was partner's soft declaration, "I like this. This works for a start."

When Wilson woke up in the morning, two things occurred to him. One was that in all the time they had been asleep, neither man had shifted. They were both still lightly entwined and perfectly fit together. The other thing Wilson realized was that it was Saturday, neither of them were scheduled for the day, and he didn't have to get out of bed. Well, HE didn't have to get out of bed. He knew that if House had managed to sleep through the night without his Vicodin, the repercussions of waking would be that much worse. Wilson considered moving so that he didn't hamper House's path when he finally did awaken; but he changed his mind and closed his eyes again. He lay there, breathing in rhythm with the sleep-rhythm of House's breaths. He felt the hair on House's chest brushing against his face, the smooth skin beneath it warming from the air that covered it. He tried to get back to dreamland but couldn't quite make it.

He was starting to get turned on from the intimacy and the sheer newness of the situation he'd found himself in. House wanted him, truly wanted him and even if House didn't exactly say "I love you James" they had pretty much decided in this weird routine that love was a given. It was strange to see where they'd come from; flipping beer caps or joking about waitresses four of five times a week, to lying together in bed, warm and comfortable. He didn't know how it happened; it wasn't as if they had been pining away for each other the whole time they'd known each other. They just, fit, and it seemed right. Wilson could never love another man, but he was pretty sure he could never go back to a woman either.

"Ooooh Goood." the painful groan came out of House before his consciousness caught up to him. Wilson was quick to move his arm and roll back to his side of the bed before the morning caught up to House and the rush for Vicodin began. "DAMN IT!" House rolled over, jumped out of bed and started slamming the drawers in the nightstand. Not finding what he was after he headed for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Wilson heard some things falling out of the cabinet into the sink and then heard the sound of House finding the bottle and downing the pills. "Oh God," that one didn't sound as painful and Wilson heard House's footsteps coming back toward the room. "Are you awake?" House asked as he hit the doorway. "Yeah, awake. Just not out of bed, and you don't have to be either. We don't have clinic today." Wilson threw House his "Ex-Wife Number 2's favorite" suggestive look. It crossed his mind that it would be very strange for a while, pulling from everything he knew about his wives to try and woo House. But he just played the boyish charm a little more and after another second or two, House limped toward the bed.

"So what do we do?" House asked as he walked back around the bed, leaning on the bedposts, eyeing Wilson's bare chest as he lay back down. "Enjoy the moment for a little while?" Wilson slid back across the bed and repositioned himself on House's chest, propped up because House hadn't returned completely to laying down. House put his hand across Wilson's hair and settled a hand on his back from both sides. Wilson could feel House's face descend to rest in his hair; he squeezed closer. "So what should we do with this day?" House was breathing in the scent of Wilson's shower the night before, combined with the smell of their sleep and closeness. "I'm sure we'll think of something" Wilson turned his face up towards House's and sought out his lips. They met each other in what was sure to be the first of many kisses that day.


	14. Its Too Cute Now

**A/N: So now I have both moved the story forward, and added any drabble-y bits I felt needed to flesh out the next stage of the relationship. I think I will take a few days and make sure that where I go with this next chapter is solid, and worthy. But I hope you like this one. I could picture it, and it made me smile.  
_I wrote this in response to all of the awkward House/Wilson out there. None of these characters are mine, just the situations. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE: Read and Review this portion. I always like to know what people are thinking so I can know where to go._**

"What do you think they would say about us now?" Only a short portion of the day had passed, but it had not lasted long in bed. House grew restless and got up to be grumpy in another room and Wilson followed to the kitchen. He looked up from his cup of coffee (Cameron's was definitely better, but Wilson's was only a marginal second so no big deal) and snarked "Probably 'oh look, they found each other, and neither one of them is still getting any ass' and then plenty of bets would be won and lost." "I doubt that Greg, they may not like you, but people like me. I bet they would be happy for me. One or two people said that they were happy I don't live in the hotel any more, I bet they would be equally glad to know I'm not alone any more either. Even if I am "together" with you." He looked into House's eyes and wondered if anyone ever felt sorry for Stacy for being with House. Probably so. He tried to put Stacy out of his mind though, into a similar dark spot as the Exes.

"So, quick cuddle in bed, stop for coffee and painkillers- would YOU like a Vicodin by the way, I hear the couple that support each other's habits tend to stay together longer. What to do next? Shop for a toy and/or teacup-sized dog to send to 'I Have Two Daddies" obedience school?" "HOUSE! It pisses me off that you're making jokes about us. Can't you just leave it be? I'm going to take a shower, if you can't think of anything else I should be doing." Wilson pushed his chair back and went to find some clothes for the day. He actually was hardly sure what to wear since he had no idea what they were doing, and couldn't take refuge in his safe shirt and tie for work. He wasn't used to dressing casual.

When he emerged from the bathroom, wondering how many showers he took just because he was at a loss for something to do, House greeted him at the doorway. In fact, he was immediately on the other side of the door, so that Wilson ran straight into him before he could realize he would. "Mm, hello. I was just- mind if I... Oh this IS awkward..." Wilson sensed House was doing something akin to his Hugh Grant impression and trying very hard, and not altogether unsuccessfully, to be sexy. He smiled and played into the act saying, "Would you like to get by?" and standing very fully in the door. "As a matter of fact I would, love, but you seem to be directly in my path." House was really laying it on now, British accent and all. Wilson moved ever so slightly to one side and turned to face into the doorway. "Think you can get by here? I am so sorry but I don't appear to be able to move."

"I think I might just. Excuse me." House plunged ahead but the combination of his cane, which Wilson thought was a nice touch since he rarely used it at home, and his intended awkwardness, caused him to push rather roughly through the very small space. He passed through with his front facing Wilson's and for a second they were jammed, very tightly and on purpose, in the doorway. Wilson took the opportunity to put on his best coy face and say "I believe you need a ticket to pass the rest of the way through, sir." "Oh um, sorry no ticket, must be in my other pants. Will this do?" and House pushed Wilson against the doorframe to kiss him and very lightly bite his bottom lip on his way apart.

"That does just fine sir, in fact we just started taking the combination kiss-lip bite as tickets last night." "Last night, really? So soon before? Well I'll have to go through here, get about my business and return before you're off your shift and use this endless supply of tickets I have." With that he moved into the bathroom and shut the door. Wilson stood there for a minute, mostly thinking about the kiss but reviewing the whole situation. He heard the water in the shower come on and banged on the door to announce his conclusion.

"House... that was really, REALLY gay." He waited for the answer. "Want to go shopping for that teacup poodle now Jimmy?"


	15. Arduous

**A/N: These characters are not mine, just the situations. I wrote this story in response to all the awkward House/Wilson stories out there. I figured it had to go better than that. IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE: review this portion. Please.  
_I am not at all sure about this chapter, it says what I want it to say, but not in the manner I pictured it. I'm open to suggestion. Not to say I will take it all, or any of it, but I am open to hearing._**

"Cameron, come here, now. You two, Mutt and Jeff, get out... go run a screen or a test or a slide or a culture or something for someone." Foreman and Chase looked at Cameron with confusion and a hint of "told you so" for whatever reasons they might have had, and left. Cameron walked over to House and sat down in the chair next to him at the conference table. It was a Monday morning; she hadn't had enough time to do anything wrong so the look on her face betrayed her annoyance at being called out this early in the week. House was going to talk to her anyway, she was the only person he knew that had so many caring bones in her body she couldn't possibly judge him for what he wanted to say. He chose her because she was most likely to understand, least likely to ask stupid questions to make the situation worse.

"What do you want House, that was completely transparent and I don't appreciate it." She crossed and uncrossed her legs impatiently so she could walk out quickly if she didn't like his response. "Sit still, I just couldn't let those guys hear this. I need your, help. Advice, something, I just need to talk to you." Cameron froze in her seat and leaned forward with no measure of hidden interest. She didn't see her boss like this often, more like not really ever. "Well," she said, her voice softening some "talk."

House coughed a few times, trying not to clear his throat but to work up his courage. Then he looked into the eyes he thought once would make him happy, and plunged into his new tale of happiness and confusion. "How did you manage to be happy with someone you knew people would think you were crazy to be with?" Cameron stammered for a second and House realized she thought he was making fun of her so he qualified, "How did you tell him you loved him when he knew you didn't have to put up with him, and your life would be better for it? How did you make him understand you weren't just biding your time because you knew he wouldn't be there much longer? How can I tell someone I..." He couldn't go on.

Tears sprang to Cameron's eyes; she swallowed hard two or three times and managed to choke out "What's the matter House? Who is it?" She grabbed for a tissue in her lab coat pocket and House saw that he might not have steered the conversation in the best direction possible. "No one is dying, I'm... It's Wilson. He and I. Wilson, and me." Cameron gasped behind her tissue and before she could stop herself she said "That's amazing. You and Wilson? I don't understand. How long has this been going on? Since you two moved in together?" She continued to dab at her face and try to regain her composure while House pieced a little of the story together for her.

"I imagine its been going on since the day we met, but we only just figured it out a few weeks ago. After he moved in, after we both realized how nice it felt just to have someone around. Its not sexual, well-- it's not about sex. I shouldn't tell you this, you don't want to know." He propped his feet on his desk, uncomfortable and exposed. He waited for her to say or do something to reassure him. She didn't disappoint. "I do want to know. Unlike you, how you try your best to push people away when you have a problem, I like to draw people to me. Tell me what's happening. Besides, you know I will just to go Wilson and ask him if you don't." The lilt in her voice was exactly what House needed to hear.

"We sleep together. In my bed, it used to just be sleeping in the same space. Now we sleep holding each other all night. I don't wake up in the middle of the night to get more pills; I don't seem to need them at night when he's there. This sounds like bullshit." "It doesn't sound like bullshit, it sounds like you're getting into something you're not used to. Keep talking, I promise it will help, then I promise I will try to help as well." Cameron stood up and pulled her chair closer to his, to look into his eyes. "Do you have to be so DAMN loving?" She sighed and tried a different tactic. "Cut the shit and talk House, even with me it only lasts so long. Better?" "God, it feels like home now. Sure." He settled, looked at her sideways through one eye and tried again.

"I still see women and I want them, you can only imagine why I didn't go to Cuddy with this, I might've forgotten about it in the midst of her breasts. But Wilson and I spent most of Saturday in bed, not doing much of anything, just BEING together. It was bizarre. I say 'much of anything' because the strangest part is that we spent a fair portion of the day making out, fiercely making out like teenagers. I was disgusted by pieces of our utter adorableness, and I couldn't bring myself to admit that if I just told him that I love him, I wouldn't feel the need to do that. I know he KNOWS I love him, since we didn't just fuck each other and write it off as a bad phase, sorry but that's the way it is. But I don't know how to tell him."

Cameron just sat there for a minute, silent with an indiscernible smile on her face. Finally, when he couldn't take it any more House blurted out "Well what the hell am I supposed to do?! We acted out something like a chick flick in the doorway of my bathroom. I can't act like that, its offensive to the part of me that likes football and beer! If it's just something I am doing because I'm bored and sex-starved... I'd rather kill myself."

Still smiling Cameron said, "I think you need to stop acting like what you think you need to act like, stop thinking things that SEEM right, and stop saying things that don't feel natural. So you're in love with a man, your best friend, it doesn't mean you have to be a cliché. You don't have to open an antique store or start listening to Judy Garland albums... just be yourself. Start by telling Wilson about how all of this has made you feel, then about how you WANT to feel. See how it works out. I'll wish you good luck. Can I go now House?"

"Yes yes," he said as she stood up and moved the chair back the way it was before. He started reaching for files he knew would not interest him, anything to keep from wandering down to the clinic and getting stuck with duty. "Tell your goon colleagues they can stop doing whatever it is they are doing. And breathe a word of this to them and I will kill you... swiftly and so no one knows." Cameron was nearly out the door "Ok House, its safe with me, but remember, if I find out you haven't done anything about it, I go talk to HIM." The door closed behind her.


	16. A little Smoke, a little

**A/N: I do not own these characters, just the situations. I wrote this in response to all the awkward House/Wilson out there. I knew it didn't have to be that way. This is my attempt at something different. _IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE: Review this portion._**

"Look, I can't tell you enough how much I-" House paced in his rooms and tried to rehearse Cameron's advice. "Tell him." The words were echoing in his ears and making it even harder to think about the things to say. He hadn't come up with anything suitable and he knew Wilson would be home very soon. He decided the best thing to do would be to already be immersed in something else when Wilson walked in the door. Cameron never said he had to do it tonight, he could stall a little longer.

House heard the key in the lock, he hadn't even gotten a chance to get involved in something else. He was a little stranded, standing in the middle of the hall. He took a last ditch effort as the door was opening and pushed his cane against the wall and disappeared into the bathroom. "Greg?" He heard Wilson putting his things away in that irritatingly organized way that he had. "Hold on a second" he replied and ran the water, splashing a little on his face. He grabbed a hand towel, yanked off his outer button-down and emerged from the bathroom wiping his face very casually. "Hey."

"Hey." Wilson answered, equally casually. House was rubbing off on him, at home anyway. Casual was the order of the day when they were together. It was more inviting that way. House asked, "How was your day?" Wilson was still walking toward House, and the trip down the hall ended in a small but comforting kiss. "Mmm, its better now. Yours?" "Got trapped by the Cuddy-monster into two hours in the clinic but one of the patients had a fantastic ass, and a calf strain, so I got to look at it quite a bit. She was smokin'." Wilson shot an accusatory glance, "Will I ever stack up to any woman?" "Tell him," Cameron's words shot through again and House knew it was pretty much now or never. "Come here."

House walked past Wilson into the living room. He sat down on the couch on the near side and as Wilson walked past him to sit down House smacked him on the rear. Cameron's disapproving face was on the back of his mind and he immediately covered his action with "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Wilson sat down, "Its alright. So what's up?" "I don't want to be gay. I mean, I don't want to be a god-awful cliché. I want to be with you, I want you. But I'd like us to still be separately ourselves." House had this way that Wilson learned to adjust to, of just plunging into serious conversations with no warning.

"We can do that, Greg. No one says we have to ever play out that little scene from Saturday again. It's been months that this has been happening. We've been testing each other; we've been feeling each other out. We tried something you didn't like, the cliché doesn't work for you." Wilson slid closer to House, noticing how now they always worked it out subconsciously that he sat next to House's good leg. "We'll try something else. It doesn't mean anything that our personalities don't change. I can still be me, and you can still be your intolerable self." He moved to close the final small space between them and put his hand on House's hair. His other hand touched House's thigh and he felt the muscles go extremely tense. In response he laced his hand tightly in House's hair and pulled just a little. A rush of air escaped House's lips and Wilson chased it with his mouth.

They kissed deeply for a few moments before House pulled away and with a gutteral and frantic moan said, "I love you James" and plunged back into the kiss. A few moments more and Wilson surfaced to reply, "I know, I know, I love you too." Equally frantic and equally aroused he pressed his hand harder into House's leg. House thought that this was probably not what Cameron had in mind when she said to talk it out but his body didn't much care. Wilson was also thinking, wondering why they always started these things on the couch, and when one of them were going to have to make the break to change. It was going to be House, he was already moving.

"Come on," He grabbed Wilson's hand and started toward the bedroom door as quickly as he could go with no cane, dragging another person. He let go of Wilson's hand just long enough to pull his shirt off while he kept walking. Wilson started to unbutton his shirt as well and by the time they hit the bedroom both men were bare-chested. House backed Wilson up against the bed and started kissing him again. House started to unbutton Wilson's pants, which caused Wilson to take a step back, sitting hard on the bed. Wilson finished unzipping his pants but left them on. He grabbed House by the wrist and pulled him to his knees over top of himself. Wilson knew that wouldn't last long on House's bad leg so he pushed him by the hips to his back. Wilson was now kneeling on top of House; neither man saying anything while Wilson worked on the closures of House's jeans.

"What the hell are we doing? We're working without directions here." House was ready to quit trying to pull himself back along the bed from under Wilson. "We know how it works," Wilson said, crawling across to keep himself above House, "and if we can't make it work, we'll stop til we can." House was really sure now that this was not what Cameron meant by talking, fumbling through a sexual encounter was anything but talking. But he relented to Wilson's surprising aggression with their new unspoken motto. As casually as he could muster between the arousal, the confusion and the distinct desire to bury his frustration in Wilson's embrace he said "Ok, let's go."


	17. Fire? Or just a Spark

**A/N: Ok loyal readers, do not abandon me but here's the deal. I think I am done with THIS story, here at this chapter. The House/Wilson pairing has grown on me so never fear... I will pick up where this leaves off. Obviously I have not made it to the level of intimacy some of you would have liked to see... but I thought this turned more into an introduction to something more. And before I get to that something more, there's another series of stories begging to get out. So give me some time to write those (maybe add me to your Author Alerts, they'll be good stories I think.) and I will get back to this when I figure out where House and Wilson want to go.  
Please remember though, R&R, you might be the one who gives me the idea for Part 2. : )**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters at ALL. Just the situations I have put them in._**

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"Really?" "Let's go pretty boy, before my more rational instincts kick in." House put a hand in the middle of Wilson's back and pulled him to himself. A few more movements and they were flat against each other; well aware of the other's excited state and the discomfort of still so many clothes. "This is just-" House couldn't finish because Wilson slapped a hand over his mouth with a surprising amount of force and instructed "Shut the hell up, Greg. For half a second, please." and moved the hand to replace it with his mouth.

He could already tell that House's movements were guarded; everything was less comfortable even though it was moving right along. Hand from his back to his ass, Wilson could tell House was weighing it against his perception of what his earlier patient might have felt like. Wilson reached a hand around to remove House's and latch a hand around the waistband of his pants. He always prided himself on wearing well-fitted pants, something he'd learned from his mother not from an ex, and generally never thought about how they came off. This time though, he realized that they always caught on everything he had to offer, all the way down. He was suddenly embarrassed and let go, put his hand back on House's chest.

"This won't work will it? We're going to have to stop at each base separately on the way to "sexual encounter home run" aren't we? No doubles or triples just good old 'hit a single and wait for someone else to get you on home.'" Obviously this was not Wilson talking, but the insecure question-style showed that Wilson was not the only one picking up some habits. He sighed and hoped House was done ruining the moment with such panache. "Only you could call a halt to something so finally, without any trace of remorse or embarrassment. I hate you, you know that right?" "Not what you said ten minutes ago." House was still lying on his back on the bed, but now Wilson had retreated to kneeling over him again. "Not what your body is still saying right now." House grabbed at Wilson's hip above him and was met with a frustrated groan.

"How DOES this work? I am not even sure I have ever loved a person before in my life. If I could just go so simply from dating, to sex, to some realistion of love so easily before... and so unsuccessfully- what does this mean?" Wilson bent his arms to bring his face closer to House's and to try and pull some sympathy from the situation. There may have been embarrassment but both men were too brutally loyal to abandon their motto. House grabbed him and pulled him back down beside him, adopting what he mentally referred to as "Puke Inducing Cuddle Pose" but always just seemed to call it to Wilson "Come here" as he did now. The passion was subsiding and as it did, comfort was strangely coming in to fill the gap. How two people could do this so easily they would never understand, they just assumed it was part of the connection.

"I never thought I would say this James, but I don't think sex has to be an ultimate expression of anything. Including lust." House remembered to bring up the day's events one more time in his head, just to torture himself. THIS was probably what Cameron meant by talking. "I mean, I think two people can be fully aware of their love for each other and not need sex to put the punctuation on it." He rubbed Wilson's back lightly and sighed a little. He HATED talking. That right there ought to be expression of love enough for Wilson, but House didn't say so. He was sure Wilson knew. "I know." Wilson said, both answering House's voiced opinion and his unspoken statement.

"I just wonder where this is going. I've never tried to imagine my life without you since we settled down here. So I like to think its not ending. But can two people just kiss and hold each other their whole lives and be satisfied? Or I wonder if we're going to have to include women to fill that void where we can't reach each other. I don't think I could take that." He pressed his lips into House's chest and hoped it read as both a kiss and a sign of possession. "I don't really think it will come to that Jimmy, besides, Cuddy and Cameron would never agree to do us BOTH. We each have a hard enough time getting them to pay separate attention to us." "I was being serious Greg. Besides... you will never get Cameron now that you have told her about us."

"WHAT?!!" House sat bolt upright, sloughing Wilson off to the side and turned on him "What did she tell you?!" "Woah woah! You really did tell her? Damn House, I was just making a joke. I knew you couldn't go too long without telling someone and she seemed the obvious choice but ALREADY?!" Wilson looked frustratedly at his partner and couldn't decide whether to break the physical intimacy for the moment for good... or just lay there. He chose the latter when House said "I just told her today, and she said she wouldn't tell anyone if I made it clear I had told you I loved you. And I did, right?" He put his hand on Wilson's chest and leaned over to kiss him. "So far, so good anyway. I guess we're clear for now." Wilson let House's lips reach his own and vowed that they would resolve these hang-ups soon. For now though, he'd be happy with what he had... love.


End file.
